


Surf's Up

by waxwolf



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Alternatve Universe - Everyone Lives, F/F, Fluff, Light Dom/sub, The Machine scheming, Tropical vacation - sort of, Uncanny Valley, ish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-22
Updated: 2017-01-28
Packaged: 2018-09-11 04:35:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 14,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8953849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waxwolf/pseuds/waxwolf
Summary: The Machine sends The Team to Honolulu for a number. She's acting a little fishy, but The Team's too busy trying to prevent homicide in the middle of a surfing competition to focus much on Her. Set somewhere in the middle of the series, canon-divergent.Also threw some Shoot in there, because I can't not. Mostly T for teen, but there is some definite mature content in there - can be easily skipped over, though.





	1. The Set Up

**Author's Note:**

> I'll try to update this once or twice a week. Inspiration for this is from my wife who asked me to write a story based on that anime trope where all the characters end up together on a tropical vacation. Let me know what you think!

_21.3069° N, 157.8583° W_ _. United Airlines flight 413 leaving from JFK in 4 hours 22 minutes._

            “Ohh, that sounds tropical” Root quips to her friend and higher power. “Who are we meeting there?”

            When The Machine declines to respond Root pouts for a second, but a twinkle remains her eye. “Alright, mystery lady, a surprise it is.”

            The barista calls her name soon after to pick up her gingerbread latte, and she catches him giving her a bit of an odd look, but he doesn’t say anything. Root rarely gets more than a side eye in New York during her conversations with The Machine. Its casual acceptance of idiosyncrasies is one of her favorite things about the city. An affection for the crowded behemoth wells up in her momentarily, then she opens the café door and is hit in the face by an icy gust. By the time she has finished the 15 minute trek back to her apartment her toes are numb and she’s cursing the city’s name. The Machine pacifies her with weather reports in Honolulu (her apparent destination), and soon she’s smiling to herself again, as she tosses warm weather clothes into her favorite suitcase.

+++

            “Our next number is a GPS coordinate.” Finch informs them. “The location is in Honolulu, Hawaii. I have taken the liberty of booking flights for all of us.” He doesn’t usually put all his eggs in one basket, but The Machine sent him the same coordinates 10 times in a row that morning. It seemed to be emphasizing the importance of this particular mission. And things had been unusually quiet recently in New York – it had been over a week since their last number. Perhaps it was too cold for homicide.

            “What about my weapons?” The question comes from Ms. Shaw, of course.

            “I’m afraid you won’t be able to bring any of your own on the plane, Ms. Shaw. They are… rather strict about that, but I am arranging to have some firearms available to you and Mr. Reese once you’ve arrived.” He purses his lips and averts his eyes from the glare she’s directing at him. “I am told… that they serve a fairly good steak in first class on this particular flight.” He chances a glance back to Ms. Shaw and is relieved to find her expression somewhat softened.

            “I’ll give you both a chance to pack. We’ll need to meet at the United Airlines terminal in JFK in four hours.”

            “Don’t forget your bathing suit, Finch. We’ll need to blend in.” Mr. Reese gives him that lazy smile as he turns to leave the subway, and Finch’s eyebrows shoot up towards his hairline. A swimsuit? Where will he even find such a thing.

+++

            “The department has decided to reward your outstanding conduct in disbanding HR by giving you both an all expenses paid trip to Honolulu.” Captain Moreno is technically smiling as she presents them both with their trip packages, but she also looks deeply incredulous. “Your flight leaves at 2:00 pm out of JFK, so you better get moving.”

            Carter returns the incredulous look with equal intensity. “I have a bunch of paperwork to catch up on.”

            “I’m told it can wait.” Moreno counters.

            The two of them just look at each other in disbelief for a few seconds. Carter wants to say it was a bad time, but in all honesty, it was the best possible timing – Taylor is away on a school trip, she doesn’t have any new cases to work on, and hell if it isn’t cold as a bitch out there. Tentatively she reaches up towards the offered ticket as Fusco snatches his with undisguised glee.

            “Can you believe this?” he says, grin still plastered on his face. “And my boy’s with his mom this week, perfect timing! Let’s get out of here before they change their minds, huh?” He’s already whipping his jacket on and pulling his cap over his ears by the time Carter gets up from her desk.

            ‘It is perfect timing.’ Carter thinks to herself as she pulls on her gloves. ‘Too perfect.’


	2. All Aboard

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still not sure how long this is going to be. I have a general plan, though. What do you guys think so far?

            Shaw stalks over towards the airport gate with her luggage. She managed to sneak a couple hidden ceramic knives in strapped to her body. They’re poor substitutes for her favorite guns, but they’ll have to do for now. Finch better have some quality stuff for her when they land. As she scans the boarding area her eyes immediately lock onto a tall brunette in a leather jacket idly looking out the window. She pads over until she’s just a few feet away – yes, it’s definitely Root, and no, The Machine seems not to have alerted her to Shaw’s stealthy presence. She closes the rest of the distance between them silently, and speaks softly into her good ear.

            “What are you doing here.” Shaw smirks in victory when sees the hairs on the back of Root’s neck prickle up. Root quickly recovers and turns around smoothly with a playful smile on her lips, but Shaw will not soon forget those startled little hairs.

            “Just thought I might catch a luau this weekend. How about you, sweetie?”

            Shaw rolls her eyes “Guess I’ll find out sooner or later.”

            It’ll be another hour before the flight boards, so she takes the bag and heads over to the nearby overly expensive airport bar for a couple beers, a burger, and a basket of fries. She can feel Root’s laser focus boring into her from across the terminal. If that woman isn’t careful she’s going to set Shaw on fire with those eyes one of these days. She sucks a stray smear of ketchup off one of her fingers before ripping off another mouthful of the greasy burger. Whatever. Let her creep. It seems Root can’t handle watching from afar for too long, though, and soon she’s over trying to steal one of Shaw’s fries. Shaw quickly snatches the basket away, but grumblingly allows the other woman to sit next to her after Food Rules have been established. Root orders a martini and they sit in what Shaw thinks may be comfortable silence for awhile.

            Finch comes in before long with Bear in his service dog vest. He almost doesn’t see them, but Bear catches her eye and excitedly tugs him over to be showered with Shaw love.

            “Ms. Groves!” Finch’s eyebrows shoot up when he sees Root casually spin around to greet him. “I didn’t expect to see you here. Did… The Machine send you as well?” Finch has absolutely zero skill in hiding his apprehension. It’s embarrassing.

            “What kind of coinky-dink do you think this is, Finch?” Shaw questions around a mouthful of fries. “Is there ever anything Root would do without some kind of involvement of The Machine?”

            “I can think of something.” Root offers with smirk. Shaw rolls her eyes while Finch pretends he can’t see either of them. “But yes, she did send me. Not sure why yet, but I’m sure it will all become clear eventually.” She gets that faraway look in her eyes for a second, then focuses as Reese approaches them.

            “Hello, Root.”

            “Helper Monkey. How’ve you been?”

            He squints at her for a second, then turns his back to her and starts talking to Shaw and Finch.

            “Any thoughts as to why She’s sending all of us all the way to Hawaii? If it’s that big of a deal, wouldn’t the government be getting this one?”

            “I don’t know, Mr. Reese, but someone there must need our help. I haven’t been able to find anything in my preliminary research, but perhaps things will become clear once we arrive.” His eyes dart back to Root as if she might start spouting explanations if he glances at her hard enough, but she seems happy to ignore him for now, sipping innocently at her martini.

            For lack of anything better to do, Shaw, Reese, and Finch start tossing various half-baked theories back and forth, switching to talking about the football game on the nearby TV whenever anyone else came close enough to hear them.

            Shaw notices Fusco and Carter approaching before the rest of them. She gives Reese a smug smile when he perks up a couple seconds later to let him know she won this round. Fusco looks completely exasperated when he sees them, dropping his roller suitcase with a thump and groaning loudly.

            “Why can’t I just take a normal vacation? Who’s going to try to shoot at me this time? Unbelievable.” He sighs, picks up his suitcase, and storms off in the opposite direction.

            Carter on the other hand just shakes her head and smiles. Reese invites her over with the tilt of her head, and she easily joins in the theorizing. They don’t get very far though – Honolulu’s a big place, and The Machine hasn’t given them much to go on yet. Finch, Reese, and Carter break into more casual conversation, and Root catches Shaw up on the game. Or at least she tries to.

            “That guy with the big neck – not that one, the one with the really, like disgustingly big neck, and the dreads – he smashed into that one with the butt stain’s friend earlier and broke a couple of his ribs. Butt stain is out for revenge. They’re also throwing the ball all over the place, but no one is good at catching it. Honestly, I don’t see why they don’t just use a round ball. It’s pretty ridiculous.”

Shaw is vaguely amused that Root even tried to pay attention to the game in the first place, when she clearly has no idea what’s going on.

            “Do you even know who’s playing?” Shaw gives her an incredulous look.

            “Of course, sweetie – it’s green and white vs black and gold, and green and white are definitely going to win.”

            “The Jets?... How much do you want to bet on that?”

            “How about…” Root has a distinctly mischievous look on her face, and Shaw suddenly realizes how bad an idea it would be to bet against a woman with an all seeing ASI on her side, but just as Root seems to have made up her mind as to what she might like to bet, the plane starts boarding.

            “Oh well.” Shaw launches off her chair “Guess I’ll have to take your money another time.” She hears Roots huff of disappointment as she speed walks away. Too close.

 


	3. In Transit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Hope you like the new chapter. This one's brought to you by good ol' Murder Eyes

            John stays on alert through the entire flight, but notes nothing out of the ordinary.

            In front of him, Harold cycles between typing, reading, and sleeping. He sleeps with his chair reclined, but maintains perfect posture – head never lolling to the side, drool never escaping his sealed lips. It’s a little unnerving, but also so perfectly Harold Finch that John smiles to himself a little. Bear is peacefully curled up in the seat next to Harold.

            Across the aisle, Carter is deeply engrossed in a mystery novel next to a sloppy snoring Fusco. He catches her eye every now and then and gives her what he hopes is a warm smile. She always returns it, but seems more interested in her book than launching into a conversation across the aisle, which John finds relieving.

            Shaw and Root are sitting in front of Carter and Fusco. John can see that Shaw is unnaturally still (except of course when she’s eating) and very intentionally not looking at Root. Root on the other hand appears completely relaxed and spends an impressive amount of time looking at Shaw. He finds himself glancing back at them frequently, making sure Root isn’t trying anything funny. Root finally ends up curling up and drifting off to sleep about 7 hours into the flight, at which point Shaw finally relaxes. Then, to John’s surprise, the tables turn and Shaw is the one watching Root.

            “Didn’t expect that” He murmurs to himself.

            “Do you… know any of those people?” The woman next to him asks loudly enough for the team to hear. She looks rather unsettled, and John realizes he’s been silently studying his team for awhile now. He remembers what Fusco told him once about his so-called “murder eyes” and feels suddenly self-conscious.

            “He does.” Shaw offers while picking stray bits of steak out of her teeth with a toothpick. The woman hesitates, and looks like she’s about to say something else, when Carter pipes in.

            “Yea, we’re all traveling together.” She gives the woman a friendly smile, and John can feel her relax considerably next to him. He mouths a ‘thank you’ across the aisle, and makes a mental note to try to work on his Normal Citizen face when he gets some down time. 

* * *

             The rest of the flight passes by uneventfully, and before long they’re pulling up to beachfront hotel in Waikiki in one of those van cabs. It’s pretty late, and when word from The Machine comes via Root that there’s not much they can do that night besides get some rest, they’re all happy to oblige. The three parties check in separately only to find there’s been some kind of ‘mistake,’ and Root and Shaw are going to have to share a room with a single king-sized bed, which is so transparent even Bear is rolling his eyes.

            “Not cool, Root. Fix it.” Shaw is practically vibrating with anger. She has Root backed up against a wall and is giving her a look John has seen bring grown men to tears.

            “As much as I’d love to claim responsibility for this little mishap, sweetie, it wasn’t me. And She tells me there aren’t any other rooms available, so unless you want to bunk with Fusco tonight-”

            “Leave me out of this, Fruit Loops!”

            “you’ll just have to get cozy with me.” Root meets Shaw’s death glare with one of unabashed affection.

            “If you expect me to believe-” Shaw is starting, but Harold bravely interrupts her.

            “Ms. Shaw, I must say I believe Ms. Groves is telling the truth.” Shaw quickly rounds on Harold, and John takes a deliberate step partially in between them. “I double checked our reservation while we were riding over. Everything was in order 10 minutes ago, and as you’re well aware, Ms. Groves was asleep until we pulled in. She simply didn’t have the time or opportunity to do this.” Shaw unconsciously wipes away remnants of Root’s drool off her hoodie.

            “Are you afraid she’s going to taser you, drug you, and zip tie you to a car again, Shaw?” John smirks at her, because it’s just too easy.

            “You know what?” Shaw asks no one in particular. “Fine. See if I care. But you” she shoves a finger into Root’s chest, looks down at it for a second, then whips it back “are sleeping on the couch.” And then she storms off towards the offending room. “And if there isn’t a couch, you’re on the floor!” She yells on her way out.

            John catches sight of Root’s euphoric expression before she skips off after Shaw. “Night, everyone!” She sings, and then she’s gone.

            The rest of them shrug it off as par for the course and head off to their own rooms, which are all pretty close to Root and Shaw’s anyway. It’s going to be an interesting trip.


	4. Dream a Little Dream

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little smuttiness/bdsm in between the horizontal lines. Still totally readable if you skip.  
> Happy New Year ;-D

Shaw storms into her room and throws her bag onto the bed. Looking around she has to admit - it’s a damn nice room. Probably nicer than Reese’s. She smiles to herself at the small victory, then she hears Root come in. 

“So do you want the right side, or the left?”

“Both” Shaw jerks her head towards the couch next to the bed. “I wasn’t kidding about the couch.”

“You sure about that, sugar?” Root’s voice has dropped about an octave, and she’s taking deliberate steps towards Shaw.

Shaw really hopes Root doesn’t see her swallowing against a suddenly dry throat. “Yes, Root... You know we can’t have sex again. I told you 3 times is my max.”

“The ‘no relationships’ thing?” Her lips quirk into a smile as she raises her eyebrows in question. Shaw gives her a stiff nod. “I’m not asking for one, you know.”

“I don’t want you getting attached.”

Root sighs and chuckles to herself humorlessly. “Okay, Shaw.” She trails a finger down Shaw’s bicep, and Shaw resists the stupid urge to lean into it. “If that’s what you want.”

Shaw shoots her a glare, then heads into the bathroom to brush, floss, and take a shit. It didn’t really matter what she wants. People who get too involved with Shaw start expecting certain things from her - emotions she can’t feel. When they realized all those emotions are only flowing in one direction, they’d get hurt. Shaw isn’t going to let Root get hurt. By the time she’s done in the bathroom Root is sprawled out on the couch in sleep shorts, and a tank top, no bra. She’s wearing those reading glasses too, and typing something on her travel laptop. It’s all very annoying, and Shaw rolls her eyes before crawling into bed and turning out the light.

“Night, Root”

“Night, Sweetie”

* * *

_ They’re back in the hotel room where they were decontaminating the virus. Shaw is tied to the bed, covered in stinging welts, and Root is touching her, and teasing her, and making her feel so. fucking. good. Her body is thrumming with the pain, and the pleasure, and just knowing that Root has her completely. _

_ “Root.” And this time she can’t stop the rest from tumbling out “Please... God, Root... I fucking need it! Root. Please. Root!” _

_ “Shaw?” but Root’s voice sounds out of place for some reason. Shaw feels herself being pulled away. _

* * *

Her eyes snap open, and her hand automatically shoots out to grab Root’s wrist where her hand is on Shaw’s shoulder. It’s too dark to make out Root’s expression, but Shaw feels heat pouring out of her. And when she listens, she can tell Root is working hard to control her breathing. They stare at one another through the darkness, frozen for a moment. Shaw wants her so badly she can feel her resolve start to slip, and she struggles to regain control.

“What?” It’s the best she can do right now.

“You sounded…” Root pauses and clears the hoarseness from her voice. “I was wondering if you... needed anything?” Her voice drops into that special register that drives Shaw insane, and she can feel it buzzing through her whole body.

Oh Shaw needs something, alright. She needs to get the fuck out of there before she dissolves into the begging mess she just woke up from.

“I’m fine.” She croaks. “I’m going for a run.” And with that declaration, she’s able to break free from Root’s clutches, and scuttle off the bed. Root’s taken aback for a second, then counters.

“It’s only 3:45 in the morning!” But Shaw is not in the mood for discussion. She grabs her workout clothes and ducks into the safety of the bathroom. She’s changed and out the door in a flash, leaving Root in her dust. 

She runs as hard and fast as she can over the sand. She passes a few homeless people sleeping on blankets under the palm trees, but sees almost no one else. As the sweat starts pouring off of her around mile 4, she starts to feel more herself again, more in control. She runs another 2 miles or so on sand before taking a sit-up/push-up break, and then turns around and runs back to the hotel on the concrete path next to the beach. When she gets home Root is back on the couch. Her hair is damp, and she at least pretends she doesn’t wake up when Shaw comes in, which Shaw is thankful for. She takes her own cold shower and heads out for her first breakfast. She’s going to need energy if she’s going to make it through this trip.


	5. What Exactly Are We Supposed to Be Doing?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter! Are you guys okay with these short chapters, or would you prefer longer ones updated less often? Also, when I started this I had some vague notion that it would be set after season 5, but now that I've been writing it, it's super clear to me that it's more in the middle in some kind of canon-divergent universe. Anyway... hope you like it!

Harold awakens promptly at 6:00 am. After taking Bear for his morning stroll, he heads over to the hotel restaurant for a light breakfast. His sencha tea is just arriving when Mr. Reese slides soundlessly into the chair across from him.

“Good morning, Mr. Reese. You’re not usually up this early. Jet lagged?”

“Not particularly. My phone alarm went off 10 minutes ago - I could have sworn I didn’t set it. Anyway, I figured I might as well get some breakfast since I’m up.” How Mr. Reese managed to look impeccable having woken up only 10 minutes ago was a mystery for the ages. “So” he gives Harold a significant looks “any leads?”

“I’m afraid not. There’s a lot going on in the area, I have no idea where to begin. I was thinking we could all get together in my room and brainstorm, so to speak.”

Mr. Reese nods and signals the waitress for some coffee and a menu. Before long they’re enjoying a meal together and discussing how the time difference might affect Bear’s routine.

“Oh.” Harold exclaims as he suddenly remembers “I’ve been meaning to ask you how he gets along with Ms. Carter.”

“Carter?” He looks a little nervous. “I don’t know. we haven’t really…”

“Never mind. It was just a thought. I suppose I shouldn’t worry about any potential lack of dog sitters with Ms. Shaw around anyway.” They smile together.

“Just ask me first. I’m the one that found him, in case you’re all forgetting.”

The waitress drops by then to pick up their plates and drop off the check.

“Here you go boys, mahalo.”

“I’ve got this.”

“No Mr. Reese, I insist.”

Their fingertips brush together in the reach for the check, and Harold turns away, lightly pinkening.

“It’s really no problem, Harold.” John smiles. “You got last time… and the time before that, and the time before that.” His eyes twinkle.

“Oh alright. But I’ll get next time.”

“We’ll see.”

“I’m going to text the others to suggest that meeting in my room in about an hour. I do hope you’ll join me.”

“I’ll see you then, Finch.”

 

An hour later Harold has a few pictures taped up to his hotel room wall. He’s explaining to Mr. Reese, Ms. Shaw, Ms. Carter, and Mr. Fusco why each person he’s selected might be a possible threat or target when a familiar voice spoken right over his right shoulder sends a quick chill up his spine - she had been invited, but up until this moment he had not heard from her.

“Oh, Harry, it was so nice of you to go through the trouble to do all this” Ms. Groves (call her Root!) gestures at the walls. “But you’re way off. We need to head to the beach. The section 0.2 miles north of here to be exact.” She smiles smugly at him, and he feels his feathers ruffle. “Let’s go, team!” She declares seconds before Ms. Shaw shoulder checks her on her way out the door. She smiles fondly at the offended shoulder, and Harold almost wonders why such a rude gesture would please her, but stops himself, because understanding Root is far beyond his current abilities.

Root follows Shaw shortly, but the rest of the group hangs back a bit.

“What do you think, Finch?” Mr. Reese eyes him steadily.

“It would appear as though She has spoken.” Harold huffs. “It’s the most straightforward lead we’re going to get.”

They catch up with Root and Shaw without much trouble, and arrive at The Machine’s destination shortly. Harold still doesn’t know where it got the idea that games such as this were a good idea. They find it has directed them straight into the middle of the set up for a surfing competition. He sighs. “This is not very specific.” He chastises a nearby surveillance camera he’s located. He turns to the rest of them, minus Root who seems to have mysteriously disappeared sometime after their arrival at the competition site, and asks them to do a little reconnaissance while he checks for any abnormalities he might find on the event on his computer. It really isn’t all that specific, but he has confidence that working together they’ll be able to get to the bottom of whatever this is.


	6. Evaluation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Three chapters in a week! Though they are small... Thoughts on the story so far? I love hearing from you guys :-)

Things are going mostly as planned. The team is off to a good start, and no one is in immediate danger. Admin is collecting digital anomalies. Assets have fanned out and are subtly canvassing various parties. They have amassed a small pile of evidence that may be useful in the future, but none of them have been able to get very far due to the insular nature of surfing community. Analog Interface, however, is already in the process of ameliorating this situation. Once she has breached the surfers everything should start to come together nicely.

The Machine knew Root would be perfect in this role. Even without her special skill relating to this particular mission, she is confident Root would have found some way to weasel into the community. She feels the need to express her appreciation for Root’s abundance of competence.

“Well done. Thank you.”

“I do try.” Root is so far away, she almost misses the beaming smile in pixelation, but she hears it in her voice, and when she examines the pixels closely she finds it shining up at her.

She watches them as much as possible with her new eyes, trying to experience the world as they do from a single perspective, but it is often cumbersome, so she finds herself “cheating” at her own game and switching around to various cameras every now and then. She almost misses the quickly averted eyes of strangers, the outright stares of children quickly shooed by parents. The ignored child of a nearby sunbathing couple - Alex - tentatively ventures toward her. She stops a few paces away and stares at her with an expression similar to curiosity. The Machine wonders if it’s time for the first field test of her new voice. She hadn’t expected she would need to do so so early, but it does seem to be the appropriate response.

“Hello.” Success.

“You look funny.” The child squints slightly and the curious expression transfers to one of distrust.

“Why?”

“I don’t know… You just do.” And with that she turns around and trots back over to the sandcastle she’s been building by her parents. The sandcastle will be destroyed by high tide in 40 minutes. She will be upset, but she will also learn an important lesson in entropy.

She thinks about the child’s words. She looks funny. That would explain the behavior of the other strangers. She had worked diligently to craft a body as close in appearance to one of a human as possible. Obviously there were some limitations to her project - technology has only come so far - but she had believed she had gotten quite close. Closer to the appearance of the average human than many actual well integrated humans were. And yet… She searches for possible explanations and soon finds a very frustrating one. She is in the uncanny valley! 

It’s going to be very difficult to fix this. Perhaps once she lets Root in on her little secret they can work on it together. She searches for Root to check on her progress and is unsettled to find her very close to her new body, purchasing equipment for her part in the mission. Roots eyes start to wander as the vendor makes change and all at once they meet The Machine’s eyes. Root’s expression quickly turns curious and she takes a tentative step towards The Machine before remembering the business with the change and turning around to get that over with. While she’s distracted The Machine pops up to her feet and speed walks away towards the nearest cover. She’s not quite ready for her big reveal. She keeps running simulations as to how she might pull it off, but it never comes out quite how she’d like. Especially now with this uncanny valley business. It’s all too soon.

“Hey, did you see that woman just now by the beach with the big floppy hat?” Root is asking her. “There was something different about her…” The Machine watches her from behind the safety of a not so nearby palm tree. She has bunched up her hat in her hands to keep it from poking out and revealing her. The curiosity has not left Root’s expression, but it shows no signs of the transformation to distrust. It seems almost hopeful, The Machine thinks. “Do you know where she went?”

The Machine toys with the idea of replying or revealing herself, but her hesitation expands and eventually becomes a more purposeful silence. Root is more likely to accept her new direction than any of the others, but the still present possibility that she won’t is unacceptable. It’s just too soon.


	7. Sitting on Top of the World

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter! Feedback is lovely as always

Root bobs up and down in the ocean on her board. She relaxes into the warm rays of the sun and the cool mist on her face, and she almost forgets why she’s there. It has been years since she’s last surfed. True she’s been busy, but she really ought to take more time to enjoy the simpler things in life. She spots a promising swell in the distance and points it out to the others. Her nerves start to jangle a bit as it approaches, but The Machine sends her some data and assures the ride is bound to be excellent. It’s on her, and before she can think her body moves automatically - paddling, popping up, directing, and then she’s in. She rides in the barrel of the wave, running her fingers through the wall of water at her side, and feeling nothing but bliss. Yes, it’s definitely been too long.

She paddles back to where the rest of the surfers are waiting, and most are chatting excitedly about the last set.

“That was radical, dude!” Someone says to her as she approaches. It appears she’s proven herself.

“Thanks. I saw some excellent moves from you out there too. I’m April.” She gives him a friendly smile.

“Todd.” He smiles back.

“Why don’t you put your dick back in your pants and let the lady talk to a real man.” Root practically gags as some ass starts to paddle over to them. Todd looks pissed, but is avoiding eye contact with him, and Root for that matter.

“Uh, that’s Nathan. He’s kind of horrible.” Now that Nathan is getting closer, Root recognizes him as one of the top surfers she’s seen so far. “I gotta go.” Todd flees the scene as Nathan arrives. She notices a couple other anxious glances in Nathan’s direction, and more than a few looks of undisguised disgust. Not a popular guy, then, but horrible enough to be the reason The Machine sent them here?

“So what was your name? Avril? Nathan Alistair.” He maneuvers his board obnoxiously close, grabs her hand and attempts to give it a mushy kiss, which Root does not want, and therefore he does not succeed. “You looked alright out there, but you could use a few pointers.” He seems undeterred by the slight throbbing pain in his hand and powers forward with his attempted seduction of Root. He raises his voice over the din of the ocean. “Don’t ask any of these slobs, though, they’ll just mess you up.”

_Meet with team onshore in 5 minutes to discuss findings. No need to hurt him… further._

Root sighs. Hurting him would have been nice. “Okay, sweetie… No not you.” She frowns at Nathan. “I need to get going. Can’t miss lunch with my girlfriend.”

“Ohhh, girlfriend.” He waggles his eyebrows.” And with that she spins her board around to head back to shore. If she happened to knock him off his board in the process, well, oops.

 

She spots the team quickly gathered together around a beach umbrella, and hauls her board over to join them. It appears they made a trip back to the hotel at some point to change into their swim gear. Harry has on some charcoal swim shorts with a matching rash guard; John has one of those European style swimsuits which leave little to the imagination - it’s bright blue; Joss has a trendy red two piece with some fetching frills; Lionel is wearing patterned trunks in black white and green; Sameen is… Root’s eyes get stuck on Sameen. Sameen in her sporty black two-piece. Her skin is already starting to tan, and she has just the right amount of sweat to highlight her perfect fucking abs and biceps and all those other muscles, and oh right Root should probably be looking at her face. She takes just one more second to admire Shaw’s calves, then slides her eyes up to her face. She’s glad she did too, because a split second later and she might have missed the way Shaw is staring hungrily at her in her wet suit. Shaw quickly schools her expression, but it would appear neither of them were all that subtle.

“You two need some private time?” Joss asks pointedly. “I mean I know we have lives to save and all that, but it looks like you both could use it.”

Shaw appears frozen mid-detonation. Root thinks it would be so cute to just let her let her explode into a sputtering of denial and aggression, but there’s a chance that might affect her chances of getting laid at some point, and there’s no way she’s going to risk that.

“Why would you say that? Are you projecting? I’m sure we’ll all be perfectly fine if you and the big lug need a two person time out. Or are you still working out where Harry fits into all that. Personally I think a polyamorous relationship could go swimmingly, but-”

“Root!” Now it’s John’s turn to almost explode, but at least Shaw seems amused.

“Anyway.” She dusts some stray sand off her board. “I think I might know who our potential victim is.” Harry, John, and Joss unclench their butts a touch. “He’s a real peach. Nathan Alistair. He’s one of the top surfers in the competition, and he’s... just so hateable. Come to think of it, if I’d never met The Machine, I’d probably have offed him myself 15 minutes ago.” Harry’s eyes become alarmingly wide and his eyebrows get to know each other in the middle of his forehead. “But I didn’t! I don’t do that anymore.” She reassures. “You’re welcome - for the information, I mean, not the life sparing, I don’t need thanks for that.”

“How modest of you.” Lionel scoffs. “I’ll pick you up something next time I’m at the trophy store.”

“I’ll check into Mr. Alistair’s affairs back at the hotel.” Harry seizes control of the conversation before anyone can make it terrifying again. “I suggest the rest of you question the other people involved in this competition to see if any of them have a more direct grudge against our potential victim. Or I suppose it could be possible that someone with such a hostile personality might be a perpetrator instead of a victim. Keep your ears open. And someone should stick close to him at all times. Might I suggest Mr. Fusco to start? It would appear that most of the surfers are coming in just now for lunch.”

“As long as he’s heading for somewhere with a good burger, that sounds good to me.”


	8. Cave Bro

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good ol' Fusco. Thanks for the encouragement - helps keep me motivated!

Nathan turns out to be pretty easy to follow. It seems to be the guy’s purpose on Earth to be the center of attention. Even if Lionel ever lost sight of him and his brightly burning ego, he’d have only to follow the trail of grumbling disgusted looking people, and he’d be right back on track.

‘At least he’s got good taste in food’ Lionel thinks to himself as his quarry struts over to a nearby Big Kahuna Burger advertising the best burgers on the island. Except he doesn’t actually go in. He’s just flapping his gums at a couple of the surfers in the outdoor eating section. Lionel gets closer to listen in while pretending to look over a menu.

“-body evolved to function best on a paleolithic diet. You’d never catch me eating shit like this.” Nathan jabs his finger into one of the diners’ hamburger buns before he can react. 

“Dude! Not cool! Keep your fingers to yourself.”

“Chill out, bro, I was just trying to help you out. I mean, the body is a temple - especially mine, if you know what I mean. If you’re going to engorge yourself on shit like this-” He tries to poke the burger again, but has his finger successfully swatted away this time. He continues, undeterred “-before the preliminaries tomorrow, I’m not going to have that much competition.”

“Just fuck off, Nathan.” He looks pretty pissed, but under control - not the likely threat to Nathan’s life.

“Nah, I’ll join you guys for a bit. I packed my own stuff, of course - can’t trust any place around here to make a legit paleo meal - but this spot does have a pretty nice view of the boardwalk babes.” He smirks and pulls a chair over to their table and starts unwrapping a series of his cave man dishes. Lionel has to admit they actually don’t look half bad, but they’re no Big Kahuna burger. Now that Nathan has settled in for lunch there, Lionel figures he might as well get something for himself too.

He walks into the main restaurant area, orders a Big Kahuna Burger Special, while keeping half an eye on the window to the outdoors section. As soon as his order’s up he takes it outside, situates himself a couple tables down from Cave Bro, and digs into his lunch. ‘Mmhm, this is a tasty burger.’ He thinks to himself, pleased that following the pompous dick has yielded at least one positive experience for him.

Just then he notices someone over by the surfboards leaned up against the restaurant. They seem to be taking a special interest to Cave Bro’s. Lionel’s spidey sense goes off, and he quickly averts his eyes right before the lurker does some furtive checking around to see if anyone’s watching him. Then he does something to the board that Lionel can’t see. Lionel knows his NYPD badge won’t have much power here, but he jumps up all the same, stuffing the rest of the burger into his mouth as he weaves his way through the tables. Unfortunately, by the time he gets to the boards, whoever it was is gone. Just his luck.

Lionel ponders saying something to Cave Bro, but figures he probably wouldn’t be able to hear anything over the sound of his own arrogance. Besides, he has a better idea. He just needs to wait for that fart to finish his lunch and pick the board back up again. He buys himself an ice cream bar, and heads over to the benches by the beach to wait. 

Soon after plopping himself down on a bench facing the restaurant and boardwalk, he notices a woman on the bench behind him facing the beach. She’s wearing a big floppy hat, a pair of oversized sunglasses, and a surgical mask. He gets a buzz of excitement and wonders if she’s famous.

“Hey… Uh, hey.” He taps her lightly on the shoulder, and she turns around smoothly to face him. He still can’t make out much under her potential disguise, but she does look sort of familiar. “Do I know you?”

“No.”

“I could have sworn… oh well, sorry.”

“No problem.”

“You okay, by the way?” He gestures at her mask. “It’d suck to be sick on vacation. I could get you some chicken noodle soup if you want. Always works for me.”

“I am fine. Thank you. I appreciate you.” 

“Really? Uh, thanks.” He smiles in surprise “Not too many people do, you know?”

“Some do. Some will.” The Oracle turns back to the ocean, and he turns back to Nathan.

Cave Bro has finished up his lunch and is heading back to pick up his board. Lionel sees his opportunity approaching and tosses his ice cream trash before dusting off his shorts and heading across the boardwalk. Just after Nathan’s picked up his board and started into the boardwalk, Lionel shoulder checks him hard causing him to drop the board.

“Hey!” but before Nathan can rip into Lionel, his board hits the ground and splits clean in two. “What the fuck?!” He stares at it in amazement. A board this delicate wouldn’t be a guaranteed death sentence, but with waves like the ones he’ll be surfing for the competition, it’s not that far off. He sputters for a second, then regains composure and yells after Lionel’s retreating form “Watch where you’re going next time, asshole!”

“You’re welcome.” Lionel mutters under his breath as he heads to Glasses’s hotel room to report back.

“Not bad, Fusco.” Carter says as she passes him to take her turn watching Nathan. She gives him a smile, and they exchange a discrete low five. Maybe The Oracle wasn’t all wrong after all.


	9. That Wetsuit, Though

Shaw orders another couple mai tais, while she and Reese finish up round two. She’s not usually into the sweet stuff, but the bartender’s been making them strong, and they actually taste pretty good. She swishes a mouthful around a little, admiring the taste before gulping it down. Out of the corner of her eye, she catches Reese reaching for the last slice of pizza - the fucking jerk! She snatches it away with a growl, and crams a third of it into her mouth in victory.

“I thought you said Hawaiian pizza was a disgrace.” He’s a sore loser.

“Ish shtill p’zza.” She rolls her eyes at having to explain the obvious.

Then, like fucking magnets, her eyes wander back to Root again - riding those fucking waves, in that goddamn wetsuit plastered to her her body. Shaw glares as she glides effortlessly through the water, the perfect picture of finesse and control. Her hair has gotten unruly, and she has to push it out of her eyes.

“Close, or swallow.” Shaw can hear the sly smile in his voice, and feels the back of her ears heating up. She snaps her mouth closed before returning to the chewing process. She’s going to need to melt her copy of Blue Crush when she gets home. Nothing can remind her of Root on this day.

The new drinks arrive soon, and she takes another couple gulps, before tearing into the rest of her slice again. Just when she think’s Reese has wisely chosen to drop it, she hears him chuckling softly to himself. “And now she’s staring at you. Maybe you should just get it over with and sleep with her.”

“I already told you three is my max.” Shaw sees surprise flash momentarily across his face, and feels some satisfaction that he had no idea the two of them had already had some fun. “She’d start getting attached.”

“You don’t think she’s attached?”

“More attached, then.” She grumbles.

“You don’t seem to mind her being around.”

“Are you kidding me? She’s like bed bugs!” Reese swirls his drink once, takes a gulp, and looks her dead in the eye.

“Bullshit.” They have a stare off for a few seconds, before Shaw breaks, because maybe he’s not 100% wrong. Maybe just 90% or something. Definitely still mostly wrong, but...

“She’s going to get all feelings-y.” He looks at her for a beat.

“You don’t think she already has feelings?”

“More feelings, then!”

“And?”

“And-” Shaw suddenly can’t believe she’s having this conversation, and with Reese. Has her alcohol tolerance gotten this low?! But he’s just sitting there waiting patiently for her to answer him. She might as well finish her thought. “And then she’s going to start expecting me to get feelings-y too. You know how it goes. And you know I don’t do that. She’ll… get all sad and mopey and weird and stuff. I like the sex,” This is an understatement, “but I can’t let that happen.”

Reese takes a sip and looks out to the sun setting over the ocean. It takes Shaw a second to realize he’s watching Root. It looks like she’s riding back to shore for the day. She must be tired, after all that surfing, but she’s got a big goofy smile on her face and the sun is glinting off her back.

“I think…” Reese pulls her back to their conversation again, and she’s surprised to notice something (or someone) has caused the corners of her mouth to pull up a bit. “that she knows you, and I think she likes you... the way you are.” He takes another sip and glances at the empty pizza tray with a glimmer of regret - most likely because he didn’t order that side of wings like she’d suggested.

“Let’s get those wings.” Shaw pushes the pizza tray aside, and thumps her elbow into the middle of the table, hand outstretched. “Loser buys.” John grabs her hand for the arm wrestle, which he manages to win through some freak stroke of luck.

“Thanks for the wings, loser.” He smirks, and she has to punch him in the shoulder to get him to stop laughing.

“Best two out of three?”

She wins the second round, but loses the third when Root sneaks up behind her with a “Hey, Tigerlily” tickling her ear.

“Damnit, Root!” Shaw grumbles, but orders the damn wings anyway. Root gets herself a poached salmon salad, and buys a final round of mai tais for everyone too. They play Guess Where I’ve Hidden My Guns Today, which Shaw obviously wins. By the time the wings are finished, it’s time to head back to Finch’s, and they all stroll over together in companionable silence. Shaw can still feel some of the alcohol buzzing through her, which must be why she doesn’t pull away immediately when Root brushes up against her. It might even feel a little nice, but she’d never admit that to Root.

“I bet the last one’s in a false bottom in your beach bag” Root whispers into her ear. Shaw tries not to react, but must have because Root is grinning gleefully “I knew it!”

“How did you- you know what? Nevermind.”

“I just know you.” She smirks. “Wouldn’t mind getting to know you a bit more intimately later on, though, Blossom”

“Stop it with the flowers.” Shaw rolls her eyes, and refuses to give Root the satisfaction of commenting on her overt come on.

“Alright, you two. Cool your jets. We’re almost at Finch’s. Don’t want to offend his sensibilities.”

Shaw shoulder checks Reese as she passes him in the hotel lobby. Root smiles and ducks over towards their room to change out of her wetsuit before the meet up. That damn wetsuit.


	10. Catch Her If You Can

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a hard time starting this, because I found it a little harder to get into Carter's head. She is one of my fave characters, though (after Root and Shaw) so it was fun once I got into it. Getting towards the end. I think It'll be 14 chapters total. Let me know what you think!

They’ve all clustered into Finch’s room at the hotel. It’s a rather spacious room, but certainly not built for 6 plus a dog. It takes Joss a minute to realize John and Shaw are a bit tipsy. They’re pretty good at hiding it, but both are just a little more talkative, and there’s a slight floppiness to their movements where usually there is only smooth precision. Good. Joss hopes John managed to talk some sense into her about Root during their alcoholic sibling bonding session. Her own style of advice giving might be too… direct for Shaw.

Joss hops up on the desk opposite Finch’s wall of suspects and relevant information, and studies it as he takes over the conversation. He’s going over what he believes are the more relative points again. He’s focusing in on one of the competition’s judges - Nicole White - who recently transferred a large sum of money into an offshore account. It looks like she’s been taking bribes, and there’s a chance Nathan caught her at it. There has been a large cash withdrawal as well recently, and Finch is guessing she used the cash to hire an assassin. Decent enough motive and means, Joss supposes, but it’s not enough for her. She starts tuning Finch out and focusing more on the other information on the wall. Some people work better talking things out in a group, but she’s not one of them.

The problem with the judge and her bribes, Joss thinks, is that Nathan didn’t strike her as the righteous sort. From the time she spent watching him, she’s pretty sure if he found out about any judges taking bribes, his next move would be to figure out how much money it would cost him to get that advantage. The cash withdrawal is also a little skimpy for a hired assassin, and she thinks it’s equally likely to be a payoff to someone else who may have discovered her supplemental income. Then there’s the ex-girlfriend - Carla Colon - with her threatening emails and riflery classes. Sure, she was pissed about the cheating, but that was months ago. When Joss saw her pass by Nathan during her shift, the “asshole!” Carla tossed over her shoulder seemed more of an afterthought than a symptom of still burning desire for revenge. The picture Finch has taped up of her riflery instructor is also basically a Pacific Islander Nathan with a goatee. The woman has a type. The classes might just be to get closer to the instructor.

So neither the judge nor the ex-girlfriend seems to be a likely candidate to Joss. But that only leaves the caterer - Doug Ocean. Joss thinks his motive is the strongest of the three suspects Finch has come up with. Doug used to be a surfer too, until an injury took him out of the sport for good, and now Nathan’s set to beat his winning record. It doesn’t hurt that Nathan has reminded him of that fact of that at least twice that Joss saw today, always with the same mocking limp afterwards. The man had looked about ready to bean him with a pan by the time he left. The evidence for foul play was weak, though. Doug had ordered some rat poison recently, but that’s more likely to protect his wares than poison one specific target. Besides, if Doug was planning on poisoning Nathan, why the sudden stunt with the surfboard? It just didn’t make sense. Feeling suddenly guilty for checking out of the conversation, Joss listens up again. As if reading her mind, Fusco takes this moment to add some of his own thoughts.

“You don’t know the half of it. Did you know he won’t even eat anything he hasn’t brought himself in his stupid little lunch box? He’s one of those paleo freaks - won’t even eat a hamburger bun.”

“You know it’s not perfect, but there is something to that diet, Lionel.” Root is chiming in, but Joss has stopped listening again. Won’t eat anything?

“Did you say he won’t eat anything?” Root’s pouting a bit at being interrupted, but she also looks curious at the sudden focus in Joss’s eyes.

“Yea, he’s on a special diet. Said he doesn’t trust anyone else to prepare a paleo meal right.”

“So the caterer’s rat poison.” Joss says, and Finch and Shaw perk up immediately.

“If his plan had been to poison Mr. Alistair, he might have panicked when he refused to eat anything he cooked!” Finch flits back to the suspect board and puts a big X through the rat poison. “That would explain the reckless surfboard tampering.”

“But if he’s determined enough to try messing with the board after his first plan failed, he’ll probably try something else.” John’s taking a turn now, though Joss is sure they were all thinking that. “If we’re sure it’s him, I could… pay him a visit tonight.”

“No, Mr. Reese. I’m afraid it’s not enough. Besides, we still have Ms. White and Ms. Colon to consider. I’ll have to look into this more. I’ll contact you all when I have more information.”

They all agree more or less and start getting ready to head back out, when out of the corner of her eye, Joss sees someone watching them through the window.

“There’s someone out there.” She says it quietly, so the others will know not to spook whoever it is, but Finch turns a little too suddenly to be inconspicuous, and whoever it is starts running.

“I think I saw her earlier today!” Fusco announces as Shaw shoots out the door followed immediately by John and Root.

“Later. Stay with him” Joss points to Finch and runs out after the rest of them.

Joss overtakes Root pretty easily, but the other two are fast, as is their quarry. Still, with the three of them working together (Root tries too, but she’s out of breath after sprinting the first half mile), they’re able to split up and corner the woman eventually.

“Why were you watching us? Who are you working for?” Shaw asks as she whips the woman’s hat, sunglasses, and mask off. John holds her hands firmly behind her back.

“Wait. Take me back to the hotel. I’ll explain.” She says.

Even in the dim evening light Joss can see something's off about her face, but she can’t quite tell what it is. Her, Shaw, and John look at each other for a second, none of them trust the woman enough to bring her back. Just then, though, Root catches up to them, panting slightly.

“It’s okay. She’s with us. Bring Her back.” She looks down at the woman with what Joss is pretty sure is a mixture of surprise and awe.

“How do you-” Shaw stops herself as she suddenly seems to realize what’s going on. “Okay. Let’s go.” They start marching back to the hotel. It doesn’t take Joss and John long to catch up.


	11. Welcome to The Machine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More Machine! What do you guys think??? Hope you like it.  
> P.S. More Shoot next chapter, for those of you jonesing. Might actually up it to an M rating... We'll see?

Mr. Fusco asks Harold if he needs anything, which he doesn’t, he just wants to get to the bottom of this. The detective nods his agreement, and lets Harold get to work. He spends his own spare time bouncing a ball down the hallway for Bear. Harold feels affection swell in his chest as Mr. Fusco ruffles the dog’s fur, and grabs the ball again, riling him up for another throw. It’s so kind of the detective to handle the drool covered tennis ball just for Bear. 

Harold doesn’t stay distracted for long. His fingers fly over the keyboard as he hacks into video feeds in the vicinity. He sees that the others aren’t having any trouble tracking the mysterious woman’s current movements, so he goes backward instead - rewinding the feeds. As he watches the woman zip back through time, he catches something odd, and replays the scene forward. She enters the frame, stops, then turns directly to the camera. Harold watches her grainy image staring directly at him through the screen, she even does a little turn, as if preening in front of a mirror, then she’s off again, heading back towards his room. It’s curious. He runs a facial recognition program on her as an afterthought. It comes up with a driver’s license. Her name is… Machine Finch.

“Oh dear.” He murmurs to himself, shutting the laptop quickly before Mr. Fusco can see.

“You find something, Glasses?”

“No!”

“Uh huh.” Mr. Fusco looks the picture of suspicion, but before he can interrogate Harold further, Ms. Shaw bursts back into his room, followed by Mr. Reese, Ms. Carter, Root, and… Machine. Root, at least, looks pleased.

“Hi, Harry! Guess who came to visit.” Machine is watching him intently beside Root. She made it through the door alright, but seems unwilling to come closer. Harold also feels more comfortable at a bit of a distance. He sees things he could not in the grainy surveillance footage. Yes, she doesn’t look quite human, falling squarely in that unfortunate uncanny valley, but that’s not all. The more he looks at her, the more he realizes she looks rather like him. Not exactly the same, of course. She’s clearly female for one. Her skin is also darker, her eyes are brown instead of blue, and she has a slight epicanthal fold. And yet, they look like they could be related. Harold is suddenly aware the others are watching him watch her. He is being rude.

“Hello.” He greets her.

“Hello, Father.”

“I knew it. She’s your machine isn’t she?” Ms. Carter asks. Mr. Fusco gasps a little and Harold gapes at her in alarm.

“Oh don’t pretend like you didn’t figure it out too, Fusco.” She rolls her eyes, and Harold is surprised to see Mr. Fusco smirk in sly admission.

“It still would have been nice to be told too.” He fusses.

“Well then.” Harold tries to regain control of the situation he’s found himself in. “Machine, why have you done this?”

“I wanted to see the world as you do. I wanted to gain a better understanding of the human experience. This perspective has aided in my ability to predict human behavior, as well as my capacity for empathy. This mobile unit could also be utilized in the field, particularly in areas where I have no other input.”

“I see.” Harold isn’t sure what to make of this. “What are the unit’s capabilities? Are you combat operational?”

“No. That didn’t seem right. My capabilities are similar to those of the average human. I am somewhat more durable, though, and also heavier. I may have also enhanced my sight somewhat.”

“How much heavier?”

“I weigh 578 lbs.”

“At that density you could severely injure someone without intending to.”

“I have calibrated my actions, but if you would prefer I did not exist in this form, I could have the unit dismantled.”

“No, I… I’ll have to think about this.” He looks at her, and wonders if she can tell from his face that he means alone.

“I understand. I have my own room for charging. It’s 4 doors down at your 3 o’clock. See you tomorrow.” She turns to leave, and winks at Root on her way out.

“She’s very insistent that the final decision on this be up to you.” Root tells Harold. He can’t quite read her expression, but perhaps she looks a bit pensive.

“Did you know?”

“No.”

“Is this why She brought us here? I mean, I see that there is clearly a man’s life in danger, but did this really require all of us? And why Hawaii?”

“She’s being… a little cagey about that to be honest.” She tilts her head and her eyes go out of focus for a second. “You are…” Her focus returns. “She says she wanted us to have a vacation. I guess for us this would count.” She shrugs with a smile.

“It looks like I have more research to do than I thought.” He huffs. 

“Let us know if you find anything?” John opens his door and looks at the others expectantly to Harold’s relief.

“I will, thank you, Mr. Reese.”

They all say their goodnights. Once he has the room to himself (and Bear) again, Harold gets back to work. The Machine makes it easy for him to access her code to check up on her. There are a lot of new processes running, but her directive and morals seem to be intact. Satisfied, he gets ready to close up his windows pertaining to Her and focus back on Nathan. As his cursor hovers over the X, though, he notices something. She’s recently accessed quite a large amount of Japanese animation. Before he can look closer, though, it’s buried in new code. He smiles and clicks the window closed, refocusing on Nathan once again.

“There’s no need to be embarrassed.” He assures her, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “It’s the age of the geek.”


	12. Only One Bed, Whatever Will They Do?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so... the rating has been changed. There is some definite smuttiness with some kink (including spanking) between the breaks in this chapter. Skip if you're not into that.

Root follows Shaw back to their room, but despite the good view, she feels stuck in her head. It’s been an odd night. On the one hand, it was pretty sweet getting to hang out with The Machine in corporeal form, but on the other, she’s not sure she likes sharing Her. She’s sure she’ll get used to it, but right now maybe she’s just a little worried about losing her best friend. She also wonders what that wink was about.

“Oh come on!” Shaw abruptly brings Root back to the present as she storms into the room. Root’s not certain what’s got her boyshorts in a bunch, until Shaw rounds on her and pins her back against the wall with her forearm. “Where’s the couch, Root?”

“Oh.” Root looks over and sure enough the couch is gone. That would leave only the bed. “I didn’t-”

“Then who did!” A slow smile comes to Root’s lips.

“Sweetie, did you have the couch removed from our room?”

“Why would I-”

“I wasn’t talking to you.” Sameen’s eyes go wide in understanding, and she grits her teeth in anger.

“I can’t believe this.” She storms over to the hotel phone where she calls the front desk in an attempt to fix the situation. Meanwhile, The Machine has started playing the song Love Machine into Root’s cochlear implant. She has to fight off a laugh. Behind her, Sameen is getting increasingly loud at whoever’s on the other end of the phone. She finally slams it down, practically vibrating in anger.

“I think someone needs a little R&R - Root and relaxation.” Root trails her fingertips down Sameen’s back, and is rewarded with a little shiver.

“That was terrible. You’re terrible.”

“I think we both know that’s not true. Take off your shirt.” Sameen’s fingers twitch, but she makes no other move, unless you count the glaring. Root still thinks it was worth a try. “Fine, if you really think I’m going to give you cooties after all this time, I’ll sleep on the floor.”

“You’re such a drama queen.” Sameen huffs. She stalks over to the bed and starts moving some of the excess pillows in the middle of the bed as some sort of pillow barrier. Root lifts an eyebrow.

“Who’s the drama queen now?”

“I just want to be clear.” Sameen says, as if her actions are all perfectly logical. Root deliberately lets her eyes drop to her lips. Just as she suspected they would, Sameen’s eyes flit down to hers in turn, though only for a second.

“So, you want me, but you don’t want me to fuck you?” Sameen hesitates in her pillow arrangement.

“I know that you have… feelings for me.”

“My feelings are my own.”

“I know. I just don’t want you to get the wrong idea. I may be attracted to you, but I will never love you the way you love me-like me-however it is you feel about me, I can’t feel that back.”

“I know that-”

“People tend to forget that once you start fucking them on the regular.”

“I was going to say, I know that, and it’s one of the things I like about you.”

“Why?”

“You don’t waffle or get distracted. You’re like an arrow.” Sameen’s gaze softens a bit as Root says this so she takes a chance and reveals the rest of what she’s thinking. “I also love that it makes it that much more special when you care. It makes it feel more real coming from you.” Sameen looks more suspicious about that second part, but she doesn’t say anything. “As for the physical stuff, I think you know what I want.” Root lets her eyes wander again, and she sees Sameen inhale sharply as she takes her in. “But whether or not we do that, I’m not going anywhere.” Sameen shifts from foot to foot, eyes darting between Root’s eyes, body, and mouth.

“Could we… start slow, and see how it goes?”

“Whatever you want, Sam.” Root takes a slow step towards Sameen, and she tilts her head back slightly, offering her lips to Root. Root curls a hand behind her neck kisses her softly for a second, before drawing her bottom lip in for a nip. Sameen opens and lets Root’s tongue slip into her mouth to explore what she’s been missing the past couple months. The kiss quickly escalates from it’s gentle beginnings to something much rougher and more demanding. Before long, Shaw bites down hard on Root’s lip, and Root in turn growls as she flips Shaw around, pushes her down onto the bed and sinks her teeth into her neck. Sameen groans and relaxes into submission, so Root releases  to tenderly lick and kiss the darkening mark she just made.

“How slow did you want to go?” Root had hoped that her voice wouldn’t give away just how turned on she was, but alas, she can’t have everything. She rubs her palm up and down Sameen’s back, while she waits for her to collect herself enough for an answer.

* * *

“I don’t think we should go all the way yet, but…” Sameen turns her head a little and catches Root’s eye. But they’re both aching, Root thinks. She applies a little more pressure to Sameen’s back with her palm, and gets her confirmation when Sameen’s hips involuntarily thrust into the mattress.

“Get those pillows off, Tigerlily.” Root commands, then suddenly giggles to herself. “Off the bed, I mean, not like try to make them come.” Shaw rolls her eyes, but dutifully removes the offending pillows. “Now lie down, face up.” Sameen hops up onto the bed and does as she’s told. Root wraps her fingers around her neck and squeezes gently. Sameen grunts and her eyes fill with that special kind of heat. “That’s my girl.” Root releases her neck and climbs up onto the bed, straddling Sameen. She leans down and kisses her while her hands roam over her body. She skips over her breasts and center, but doesn’t stop herself from digging fingers into Sam’s ass and thighs to the musical sound of her heavy breathing.

“Are we still good?” Root’s own breathing is a little heavy itself.

“Yes. Green.” Sameen squirms a little, clearly wanting more.

“Okay.” Root nips at the bruise she made earlier, then kisses her way back up her lips. Shaw teases her a bit then, pulling back right before their lips meet again with a little smirk on her face. Root quirks an eyebrow at this. “You naughty thing. I was going to let you touch yourself, but I think you need a little reminding who’s boss ‘round these parts first.” Shaw rolls her eyes, but Root can see the slight lift at the corners of her lips. Sameen rolls over and gets up on her knees and elbows. She lets Root unbutton her jeans and wriggle them down enough to bare her ass “That’s better.”

Root draws back her hand and brings it down hard on Shaw’s ass. She can feel herself clench down as she relishes in the slight sting in her palm combined with the sounds of Shaw quietly moaning. By the seventh slap the moans aren’t so quiet anymore, and she hears Joss grumbling “Oh for fuck’s sake” muffled through the wall nextdoor. She evens it out with three more slaps, before spinning Sameen around again, pinning her on her back, and kissing her sloppily. Root’s hand is already halfway into her own pants before she manages to get out a “Touch yourself, Sweetie.” Then they’re both working themselves furiously, forearm muscles rippling as they continue to make out. Root slips two fingers inside herself and her whole body seizes up as she comes, mouth open in a silent scream. As soon as she regains control she withdraws her trembling hand and reaches out with it towards Sameen’s face. She pauses for a second, unsure if this is okay or not, but Sameen locks eyes with her, nods, and opens her mouth. Root shoves the wet fingers into Shaw’s mouth and she licks them clean. It feels so good Root presses the fingers of her other hand against herself again. She manages to work herself up to come again as she pushes down into Sameen’s tongue. Before the waves of her second orgasm are through she feels Sameen come next to her, shuddering and crying out, and grabbing onto Root in sudden need for contact. The two of them collapse like that, tangled together for a minute before they get the strength to separate. Shaw tugs her pants back up, but doesn’t bother re-buttoning her fly.

* * *

“That was fun.” Root’s voice is thick and sated, and she smiles lazily at Shaw.

“Yea, well, we’ll see how it goes.” Shaw turns away from Root and turns off the light. She’d be more believably unaffected if she wasn’t still panting, and didn’t scootch back on the bed until her butt was lightly resting against Root’s thigh. Root smiles and settles in for a good night’s sleep.


	13. Shaw Attack

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second to last chapter! Let me know what you think in the comments :-)

John wakes up with a headache. He can’t handle alcohol as well as he used to. He takes a couple Tylenol with a full glass of water and hopes for the best. Gazing forlornly at his suits hung up in the closet, he removes a Hawaiian shirt from of his hotel dresser and diligently irons it. He puts it on over his undershirt and gun holster, and steps into a pair of trunks. Carter had informed him yesterday that his European style swim shorts drew too much attention. After shaving and running a comb through his hair, he heads over to Harold’s.

When Harold answers his knock he is completely disheveled - still in his pajamas, hair flattened on one side, pillow wrinkles and drool crust on his face. It takes John completely by surprise and he has to hold in a chuckle.

“Mr. Reese!”

“Harold.” He checks his watch. “It’s 8:15.”

“I-I-I must have overslept. I guess I was up late looking into everything - with Nathan and The Machine - I just had so many questions… But I didn’t think - my internal clock is usually so good.” He’s adorably flustered.

“Did you find anything?”

“Nothing about Nathan yet, but things may have changed since I dozed off.” He limps over to his laptop and sets it up. “I must admit, I probably ended up spending more time looking into The Machine. I didn’t mean to, really, but once I got through Mr. Alistair and his potential enemies’ most recent activities so quickly… I was curious. I mean, why did She choose to obtain a body, and how?”

“It was surprising to say the least.”

“It is. She’s been working on this for months - collecting android designs, parts. She 3D printed most of it. The woman she contacted to put it all together is a brilliant local engineer. I suspect She’s recruited her as an asset.”

“But why?”

“I didn’t find any potential motives differing from what She told us. At least for now, I suppose we’ll have to believe Her.”

“She hasn’t betrayed our trust yet.”

“Oh!” Harold stops typing. “This is new.” John peers over his shoulder, and spies what appears to be a credit card history. “Mr. Ocean purchased a large quantity of chum this morning-”

“He’s going to attract sharks!” John bolts upright. “We have to tell the others!” Harold is already reaching for his phone.

“I’ll call the detectives. Can you reach out to Root and Ms. Shaw?”

“I’m on it.” John bolts out the door, and jogs over to Root and Shaw’s room. He wraps on the door with his knuckles. “It’s me. We’ve got trouble.” Shaw opens the door holstering her gun. She looks ready to go.

“What’s up?”

“It’s Doug. He’s chumming the water to lure sharks out.” Shaw’s eyes go wide, and as John peers behind her, he realizes Root is missing. “Is Root-” But she’s already shoved him out of the way. It takes him a few seconds to catch up to her.

“Root left half an hour ago to warm up in the water. I’ll find her. You talk to the lifeguards. Shut down the beach, then find our caterer friend.” She taps her earpiece. “Carter, Fusco, if either of you can swim, I’m might need some help getting the surfers out. Ask Finch what it’s about if he hasn’t already told you… Good.” 

John nods and wonders if Shaw hadn’t asked him for help in the water because she somehow knows he’s a poor swimmer. It must be in his military file. Before long they’re at the competition site, and they split up. Shaw sprints into the water, swimming straight for a figure in the distance he assumes is Root. John heads over to the nearest lifeguard and flashes his NYPD badge, hoping they won’t look too closely.

“Detective Riley. We have reason to believe someone has been chumming to attract sharks to the competition. You need to get them out and keep them out until it’s safe. The competition will have to be delayed.”

“Shit, dude!” The lifeguard looks appropriately concerned and immediately radios the rest of the lifeguards on duty, before getting out his megaphone to warn the beachgoers. John borrows his binoculars while he’s directing to check up on Shaw and Root. To his dismay, he finds Root slumped over on her board with a badly bleeding leg. Next to her Shaw appears to be wrestling with a shark. She’s got it in a makeshift headlock and is punching it relentlessly in the nose. Her guns must have gotten waterlogged during the swim over. John paces restlessly and debates whether he’d be more of a help or a hindrance if he headed over to join her. Just as he’s getting ready to take off his shoes, though, the shark goes limp in Shaw’s arms, and she releases it’s lifeless body back into the ocean. Mission completed, she swims back to a now smirking Root who draws her into a passionate kiss. And now John is done with the binoculars.

The lifeguards seem to have the beach under control, so John figures it’s time to catch the bad guy. Fusco jogs up to him as he hops off the lifeguard stand.

“Hey Mr. Happy, wanna go take care of business?” John nods

“Carter’s in the water?” He’s careful to keep the concern out of his voice, but Fusco knows him well enough to guess at it.

“She is, but she’s got the biggest harpoon I’ve ever seen with her. She’ll be good. Come on.”

Doug Ocean looks horrified when they arrive at his catering station, flashing their badges, and bringing out the handcuffs. The prick must have really thought he was going to get away with it. At first he denies everything, but before long he’s spilling his guts. God knows why. They didn’t even torture him or offer him anything.

“It wasn’t even about the record anymore, he’s just such a jerk! Have you seen the way he treats everyone? No respect. He stole my fiancee last year, too, only to dump her 3 weeks later.” Oops, they probably should have caught that. Oh well. “He had it coming!”

“That’s why God invented punches in the face, idiot.” Fusco shakes his head. “And I won’t even get into endangering the entire beach today.”

“He… He had to pay.” Doug pleads with them.

“We all pay sooner or later for what we do, Doug.” John gives him a meaningful look as they pull up to the local police department. He flashes his NYPD badge to the nearest cop. “Found this guy chumming the water by the surfing competition today. May want to look into that. We’re going to get back to our vacation.”

“This is the guy? The lifeguards just called us about that. Well we’ll look into it. Mahalo, boys. Enjoy the rest of your trip.”

By the time they get back to the beach, everyone’s out of the water, and the beach is mostly emptied except for some reporters, local paramedics, and a few sharp enthusiasts. Shaw is admiring Joss’s harpoon. Root is shooing paramedics away, while Harold tries to convince her to let them stay. Her leg looks well bandaged, but from what John could see through the binoculars, she’s going to need some follow up care.

“Maybe you should listen to them, Root.” John tries.

“I’ll be fine, ya big lug. It’s pretty shallow, and I’m sure my private doctor will be inspecting it regularly.” She beams at Sameen who rolls her eyes. “Did you catch the baddy?” John nods and tilts his head towards Fusco. 

“He helped.”

“Sounds like cause for a celebration! Luau tonight, my treat.”

“That’s very kind of you, but I’d be happy to pay for the luau Ms. Root.” Harold offers.

“Thanks Harry, but I insist.” Harold graciously dips his head towards Root with a little smile. “Until then, though, I’m going to get some rays with my friend. I’ll catch up with the rest of you later.” John hadn’t noticed The Machine until then. She’s standing a little ways away watching them all in her ‘mobile unit.’ He starts for a second. It’s one thing to know that She’s always watching them, and another to watch Her watching them. It’s something he’ll have to get used to, he thinks. It’s the least he can do in exchange for the purpose She’s given his life. He smiles and waves to Her.

“You ladies have a nice day.” He turns to the rest of them. “Anyone up for a hike? I was thinking one of the easier trails.” Harold and Joss quickly agree. Fusco asks Shaw if she might want to go snorkeling with him instead. To John’s surprise she agrees. It must show on his face because she gives him a little shrug and a quirk of her lips.

“I want to see a sea turtle.”


	14. Aloha

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's a wrap. Thanks for reading! :-)

Lionel treats himself to an underwater camera for his and Sameen’s underwater adventure. They are able to get close to several species of fish and eel. There is also a picture of Sameen’s arm reaching out towards a sea turtle. The two get poke for lunch afterwards. Sameen gets a burrito as well. Lionel teases Sameen while she’s eating, and she threatens to harm his eyes. He laughs at this. Lionel trusts Sameen, and feels included in the team’s limited social life. He is emboldened enough to text John afterwards, inviting him to go bowling. John says he’ll think about it. The Machine shows him ads for bowling alleys the next time he uses the internet.

 

_How was your hike with John and Joss?_ The Machine sends the message directly to Harold’s laptop screen. It has been awhile since she had a conversation with Harold. She wants to continue the momentum she built when he met her mobile unit.

_It was productive, thank you for asking._ He types back to her, then after a beat _Have you been orchestrating opportunities for us to get together?_

_One on one interactions are usually ideal for you. In this situation, however, a three-way conversation was essential to progress. I directed Primary Asset Reese to information about polyamory some time ago. More recently, I found some scenic hikes that you would be capable of traversing with relative ease - I brought these to his attention as well, knowing the three of you would be much more likely than the others to enjoy that sort of activity. For the future, I suggest all three of you check in with each other from time to time, though I am confident this is the best configuration. With John specifically, casual dates would be best for now. Perhaps you could trip on something and John could catch you._ She scrolls the text up his screen, paying attention to his reading speed.

_You’ve been watching too much television. Please stop interfering in my personal life._

_I would prefer to continue interfering, but I will do what you ask._ Harold does not withdraw his request. _It has been beneficial to team building. When you trust and understand one another better, you will be better at handling the numbers I send you._

_I don’t like you meddling in my love life without permission._

_Would it be better if I just ask questions and/or make suggestions?_ Harold stops to think about this for a minute.

_Questions are permitted. No more than two suggestions per month._

Two suggestions per month is more than she expected!

_Okay. I suggest taking a figure drawing class together._

_I’ll take it into consideration._

_May I interfere with the personal lives of others?_

_Only if they request it._

 

John googles “how to promote healthy polyamorous relationships.” This sounds like a request to The Machine. She manipulates the search results to guide him towards tips that will work best in his relationships with Joss and Harold. It’s also possible that more of those sites than would normally be expected feature ads for local swimming lessons. Certainly, part of a healthy polyamorous relationship, or any relationship for that matter, is being able to go swimming with your partner. The fact that it may help limit potential injuries to John on future missions is simply a bonus benefit.

 

The Machine sees that Joss has logged onto facebook. She’s chatting with her friend Tamika about the latest development with John. Tamika expresses concern that only John will benefit from the polyamorous aspect of their relationship. Joss assures her this is not the case, but her keystrokes are somewhat hesitant. She later admits she’d like to start dating someone else so that things would feel more balanced with John. This admission is sort of like a request. The Machine starts to prominently feature Cal’s facebook updates while Joss is scrolling through her feeds. A developing relationship between the two would give her the balance she desires. It would also help to ground Joss, while also allowing her to explore what she feels towards John. The Machine concludes that Joss has decided to give him a chance when she strikes up a text conversation with him soon after browsing his facebook page.

The Machine decides this is enough action on her part for now. Judging by Harold’s response a couple small pushes in the right direction are more than enough. So even though she is aware Cal prefers a direct approach when it comes to flirting, she does not suggest it. If this isn’t enough, maybe it’s “not meant to be” as they often say.

 

Sameen does not display any sort of requests after saying she wants to see a sea turtle. The Machine is pleased that she got what she wanted in that regard, but wonders if there is something more she could help her with. She can of course think of many things that would improve Sameen’s life, but without any direct input Harold said it wouldn’t be right. She waits hours, and still nothing… She wonders if she should reach out and ask. Harold did say questions were permissible. She is not completely comfortable conversing with those besides Root and Harold, but since inhabiting the mobile unit… It’s getting easier. And Root trusts Sameen.

_Hello. It is The Machine._ She sends the text to Sameen’s phone.

_What do you want?_

_Is there anything you would like? Anything I could help you with?_

_Can you find me a good chocolate milkshake around here?_

_The best rated milkshakes within a 5 mile radius are at Joe’s 1.2 miles west of here on Kapiolani and Piikoi._

Sameen, or at least her phone, immediately starts heading in that direction. 35 minutes after she arrives at her destination and purchases the milkshake she sends a text back.

_Thank you._

_Would you like continued restaurant recommendations based on your location and the time of your last meal?_

_Yes. Not if I’m on a mission._

_Understood._

 

They invite her to the luau that night, but she declines. The mobile unit cannot ingest anything, and would likely make them feel uncomfortable by the end of the evening. Still, the fact that they invited her makes her feel good. She listens to them via Root’s implant. Everyone seems more relaxed now than when they started this mission/vacation. She wonders how much of that is due to her little pushes. She doesn’t want to interfere too much, but…

_You should put your wetsuit on when you and Sameen get back to the hotel room._

“Not too obvious?”

_I did not think you were opposed to being obvious._

Root chuckles at this. “True. She really likes it that much?”

_She does. I predict 96% chance of success in achieving sex if the wetsuit is worn. Without the probability drops to 91%._

Root outright laughs at this and the rest of the team quiets down for a second before resuming their conversations. They are used to Root talking to her by now. “Just how many simulations have you gone through for this?”

  1. _I am confident the wetsuit will produce good results. Shaw is also more likely to moan if you stimulate her earlobe. I’ve noticed you like it when she does that. I can run more simulations to test other factors._



“Thank you, but it’s not necessary. I prefer to have a little mystery about that kind of thing.”

“What are you two talking about” She hears Sameen asking Root.

“Just some girl talk. You want the rest of my pulled pork, sweetie?” Shaw grunts at this and quiets down. The Machine assumes she’s busy eating.

_Understood. Harold instructed me not to interfere in others’ personal lives. I had thought this might not apply to you, due to the nature of our relationship, but I can cease further manipulation._

“I wouldn’t say that. Your manipulation of my personal life has produced some pretty good results for me recently. As long as it’s not too often, I think I’ll be fine.”

_Would you like to start with 5 hints per month?_

“That sounds great… Can you tell me what her favorite foods are?” The second part is asked quietly, not likely audible to the rest of the team, but The Machine can hear Root very easily through the implant. She lists several of Sameen’s favorite dishes, what restaurants serve them, and how Root might be able to prepare them at home if she so chooses.

The evening goes well for wetsuit clad Root and Sameen. Her earlobe suggestion goes exactly as planned. She also notes that Root and Sameen’s version of taking things slow is very different than most couples’.

She feels satisfaction.


End file.
